


Housekeeping

by janvandyne



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, F/M, Hair-pulling, Oral Sex, Sex, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-22
Updated: 2016-09-22
Packaged: 2018-08-16 15:38:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,916
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8108011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/janvandyne/pseuds/janvandyne
Summary: You show up at Bucky’s hotel door offering more than just your housekeeping services.





	

“Good evening, Mr. Barnes. I’m here for your turndown service.”

The man stares at you, wide-eyed and open-mouthed, but doesn’t do much else than take up space in the doorway. You wait for him to invite you into his hotel room, but he doesn’t. A moment longer and you shift your weight to one foot, your confidence quickly becoming uncertainty under his scrutiny.

You know you make for an enticing sight. You have on your black and white maid’s uniform, the hem of the skirt hitting high on your thigh, hiking up in the back and just managing to cover the bottom cuff of your ass. A few of the tiny white buttons are undone on the bodice to show the top of your cleavage, pushed up in your black lace bra. You have on panties to match and a black garter belt holding up a pair of seamed stockings. Your feet are arched in a pair of black stilettos and to top off the outfit, you have a small white apron on, tied in the back with a lovely little bow.

“Mr. Barnes?” you ask, bringing your other hand up to help support the increasingly heavy tray that you’re carrying. “Sir?”

He seems to shake himself out of his stupor, blushing when he realizes that he’d been staring, and he is so fucking cute. Bucky’s face is flushed under a light dusting of stubble, hair slightly disheveled as if he has ran his hand through it one too many times. He has on a long sleeve button-down, unfastened at the neck and untucked from his pants; and to top it all off, he’s barefoot, toes sinking into the plush hotel carpet where’s he standing, looking at you.

So fucking cute.

“Umm… I don’t think that I requested a turndown service,” he says.

“Oh,” – and you give a little pout – “well I can leave if it’s an inconvenience.”

“No! I mean, you’re already here,” he replies. “You might as well… uhh… Would you like to come in?”

You hold his gaze as you brush past him in the doorway, turning sideways so your breasts graze against his chest even though there’s more than enough space for you to get through without touching him. You hear the door click close and lock as you walk into the room, swaying your hips as you go because you’re sure that Bucky is watching.

You pass up the bed and head toward the plush sofa in front of the window. When you get there, you take the bottle of Scotch off of your tray and set it on the end table to the right of the couch, along with a glass and a single red rose.

You slide the tray between the table and sofa to get it out of the way before walking around the table to draw the curtains close. When you turn back around, Bucky is standing in the middle of the room, awkward, as if he doesn’t know what to do.

“Would you like to sit down, sir?” you ask, motioning to the couch.

He clears his throat, but instead of answering, he walks toward you and then lowers himself into the couch. You stand at his side, in front of the end table, and uncork the bottle of whiskey. He’s watching your every move and you’re pretending like you don’t notice, but you can’t help but be affected by his intense gaze.

You’re whole body is heating up, and swear he can probably hear your heavy heartbeat from his place beside you. You will your hands not to tremble as you pour two fingers of Scotch into the glass and then reclose the bottle.  


“Your Scotch, sir,” you say, turning toward Bucky with the drink in your hand. He still looks unsure, but he takes the glass anyway. “It’ll help you relax.”

“Thank you,” he replies and he even gives you a smile, finally starting to look more at ease.

“It’s my pleasure,” you tell him, your voice a little husky when you realize he’s giving you another thorough once-over. He brings the glass to his lips and takes a sip of his drink, letting out a small moan when the flavor hits his tongue, but never taking his eyes off of you the entire time.

And just like that, the air in the room changes. You’ve felt in control since Bucky opened the door, amused at his reactions and the affect that you had on him. But now he’s more relaxed, more in command of himself, and he’s the one playing the game, seeing how taut he can wind you up before you finally snap.

Bucky’s legs are spread wide, taking up all the space on the right side of the couch. One hand is resting on the arm of the sofa, still holding his whiskey. The other is against his thigh, subtly drawing your attention to the obvious bulge in his pants.

Your face heats up when you realize that you’re the one who has been staring this time, and he smirks, a little smug, a little satisfied, but mostly with an expression of contented curiosity, eager to see how this scene is going to play out.

You stand in front of him, clasping your hands behind your back and cocking your hip out, the action arching your chest forward while also emphasizing the curve of your waist. “Would you like your bed turned down now, sir?” you ask.

“Yes,” he replies. “Please.” And before you can turn all the way around he adds, “Both sides, if you don’t mind.”

“Yes, sir.”

Slow and steady on your tall stilettos, you make your way to the other side of the bed. There’s a clock radio on the nightstand, and you turn the dial until you get to the station that plays soft piano music throughout the night. You turn the volume down to a pleasing level until the music is just light background noise to set mood.

Next, you turn to the bed. You pick up the pillow shams and carry them to the bench at the end of the mattress, neatly placing them there. You walk back up to the top of the bed and fold down the top throw. You can’t reach the other side, so you place a knee on the mattress, bending at the waist and stretching over so you can pull down the other side.  


You know that in this position Bucky has a great view of your cleavage. To put on more of a show, you arch your back and bend down lower, pretending to struggle with the throw, making your breasts bounce every time you rock forward. Before you finish with that task, you look up at him through your thick eyelashes to gauge his reaction. His gaze flickers up from your chest to your eyes and he pulls his bottom lip into his mouth, biting down, making you wish that you were the one biting that lip instead.

You slide your knee off of the mattress and stand up once again. You fold the thick white comforter down on that side, and then the sheet. You walk around to the other side of the bed and do the same thing, this time spreading your legs slightly apart and bending at the waist so that Bucky can have a good look at your ass.

You sway your hips side to side as you straighten out the fitted sheet, slowly running your palms over it to smooth out the wrinkles. When you’re done, you rise back up, putting your hands on your hips to inspect your work. This gives Bucky an unobstructed view from the back, from the tips of your pointed heels to the top of your perfectly coiffed head and all the curves in between.

You turn around and give him a smirk. Slowly, you make your way toward him and retrieve the rose from the end table. You return to the bed and lean across the mattress, placing the flower on the pillow on the opposite side of you.

“Is there anything else I can do for you, sir?” you ask once you face him again, hands clasped behind your back like before.

He has sunk down lower in the couch, legs spread wide and inviting, and although still in his hand, his glass is empty. He looks at you with heated, hooded eyes and licks his perfectly plump lips before responding.  


“What other services do you offer?” he asks.

You mirror him, running your tongue along the seam of your lips. “Whatever you’d like.”

Bucky can’t help but smirk as he sets his empty glass down on the end table. With both hands free, he pushes up his shirt sleeves, revealing his tan skin and toned forearms. Your eyes track his motions, savoring the sight of this extra little bit of body he’s revealing to you. And for as mundane and commonplace as a pair of arms may be, his spark a flame inside of you. They are thick, vascular, with a light dusting of hair leading down to his wrists. His hands are big, fingers long, and you can only imagine how they would feel touching you all over.

“Unbutton your top,” he says, and you’re so lost in your own thoughts that you hear his voice, but not his words.

“Sir?”

He cocks an eyebrow at you and leans forward, resting his elbow on his thighs. “Come here,” he says, and you’re almost sure that’s not what he said before, but you do as you’re told anyway.

You take a few steps to close to distance between the two of you, walking into the space between his open legs. Because of his position tilted towards you his face is close to your stomach, almost touching, and as he lifts his chin to look at you, his hands come up as well, grabbing hold of your hips.

He sits up straight, dragging his hands down the outside of your thighs as he does so. He stops at your knees, slides his fingers behind them, then slowly runs them back up your legs, the smooth nylon of your stockings catching on his rough palms until he gets to the bare skin above them. He gives you a squeeze just below the curve of your ass, before taking his hands off of you completely.

“Unbutton your top,” he says again and he scoots back in his seat to give you space to work, one those captivating forearms coming to rest on the arms of the couch.

With one hand, you find the first fastened button on your bodice and free it, revealing a little more cleavage as the front of your top opens even further. You lean forward, placing your free hand on Bucky’s shoulder, then do the same to the rest of the buttons. One by one with measured ease you unfasten your buttons, uncovering your black lace bra and the top of your torso.  


He hums his satisfaction, inclining toward you and pressing a single, lingering kiss into the hollow above your collarbone. He keeps his lips against your skin as he reaches up and gently pulls you forward. You slide onto his lap, knees bracketing the outside of his thick thighs, hands weaving behind his neck. He wraps his arms around your back, pressing you tight against his chest.

You shiver when he leans his forehead against your collarbone, breath hot and heavy against the top of your breasts. He’s just keeping you there, pressed against him, holding you as if he’s satisfied with only this. But then you shift, only slightly, and he tilts his head up, runs those perfect lips up the side of your throat, before planting a small kiss behind your ear.

“Whatever I’d like?” he whispers, repeating what you said earlier.

“Yes, sir,” you sigh. “Anything.”

He slowly rolls his hips up, grinding his dick against your already aching core. You gasp in response, slide your fingers into the short hair at the nape of his neck. He does it again, teasing you through layers of clothes until you start rocking down on him, meeting his cadenced thrusts with ones of your own.

“What if I said that I wanted to bend you over my lap?” he asks, mouth still close to your ear. “Pull these sweet little panties down and spank that perfect ass until you’re begging me to do more?”

You groan at his words, grind down on him a little harder. Bucky slips his hands down to your ass and squeezes, fingers sinking into your soft flesh.

“Is that what you want?” he continues, cheek against your cheek, breath hot against your ear. He takes one hand off of your ass and reaches up to grab your hair, pulling you back so that he can look at you. “Do you want me to play with your ass until you’re begging me to slide my cock into one of your hot, tight, little holes?”

“Please, sir,” you say with a moan. “Anything.”

He smirks, satisfied. “Yeah, sweetheart, you said that. And I damn sure plan on taking you up on that offer.”

Bucky removes his hand from your hair, places two of those fingers to your lips. You lick a wide trail up the length of both of them, languidly, from base to tip, tasting him for the first time. He presses his fingers into your mouth, sucking in a breath as you wrap your lips around the digits, gliding your tongue over the seam between them. He slides his fingers out, not quite all the way, then back in. He does it again, slow and smooth, and again, again, fucking your mouth with gentle thrusts.

“You have the most beautiful lips,” he coos. “Fucking beautiful. I bet they’d look amazing wrapped around my cock. What do you think?”

You nod your head in agreeance, still giving his fingers a wet and slow suckjob. He smiles at your response, then leans in to kiss the corner of your mouth. Your eyes drift close and you let out a quiet moan around his fingers, relishing the feeling of his plush lips against you, the taste of his skin, his hard cock pressed up against your cunt. He slides his hands down the crack of your ass, gasping when he feels the flared end of a plug through your panties.

You squeak in surprise when he lifts you up by the waist and situates you across his lap, knees and elbows pressed into the soft sofa cushions on either side of him. The ease in which he manhandles you, lifts you without difficulty, produces a white-hot wave of pleasure that flows through your body.  


Bucky runs his fingers down your crack again, this time passing over the plug in your ass to move all the way down to your clit. Your body jerks when he starts massaging you with his fingertips – tiny circles with just enough pressure to make you want more. The pad of his thumb finds the wet spot on your panties and he presses against it, the thin fabric the only thing keeping him from sliding inside of you.

His fingers feel incredible. They’re strong and skilled, dexterous in their actions. Your stomach flutters as he touches you, heat kindling inside of you. You push back, trying to get more friction against your throbbing clit and aching hole and he obliges, pressing in deeper with his thumb, only to be obstructed by your panties.

You turn your head and look at him over your shoulder. His baby blue eyes are focused on his fingers against your cunt, brows furrowed, bottom lip trapped between his teeth. He’s so caught up in what he’s doing, he doesn’t even notice you staring.

“Mr. Barnes?” you ask, breathy. “Sir?”

You startle him out of whatever reverie he’s lost in and his eyes flicker up to yours. “Yeah?” he asks, voice deep and rough as gravel now. “What do you want, sweetheart?”

“I want you t— you said you would spank me.”

The corner of his lips curl up in a smirk. “I did say that, didn’t I?”

You can’t help but eagerly nod your head, your blatant enthusiasm causing your cheeks to warm in embarrassment. You’re more impatient than anything, though, so you shimmy your hips from side to side, encouraging him to put his hands on your ass.

Bucky slides his free hand up your spine, stopping when he gets to your hair, burying his fingers in it. He grabs it at the roots, pulls your head back so that you’re facing forward again. You let out a small cry, the stinging pain in your scalp making you forget about everything else.

Your cry is cut off by the sharp skin-on-skin sound of Bucky’s hand smacking your ass. You can barely stifle the wail that emanates from your throat, half out of surprise, half pain. He palms the tingling cheek, kneads the flesh in his hand, before slapping it again.  


“You’re such a good girl,” Bucky purrs. “So good. But so fucking bad.”

His hand cuts through the air and he lands a blow to your ass again, right in the middle of your cheeks. He does it again and again, his palm slapping against your cunt through the wet fabric of your panties. Your back bows with every hit, your body instinctively trying to get away, but by the sounds of your moans, you’re sure Bucky knows that all you want it more.

Bucky hooks his fingers under the waistband of your panties and slides them down, leaving them wrapped around your thighs. He groans as he spreads your cheeks with his palms, examining the shining jeweled plug that you’re wearing.

“Isn’t this fucking beautiful,” he praises. “You’re so gorgeous. All over.”

He taps on the plug, uses his fingers to push it in a little deeper and you whimper, feeling so full but unfulfilled at the same time. Your pussy is pulsating around nothing, the weight in your ass making your cunt feel empty. The sensations make you hungry for Bucky. You want him everywhere – in your pussy, in your ass, in your mouth; around you, inside you, filling you up with his cock and fingers and tongue.

He slaps your ass again and you mewl. He does it again and again, then smacks your other cheek to switch it up. He goes back to playing with your plug, twisting it and pulling it out a little, letting your hole open around the bulb, then sliding it back in again. He takes your panties off the rest of the way and drops them to the ground, allowing you to spread your legs more without them getting in the way.

“Mmm, this ass,” he says, more to himself than to you. “The things I’m gonna do to this ass.”

He comes down on your ass with both hands, one palm on each cheek. You cry out, the sound of both your voice and the sharp slap reverberating through the room. He massages your cheeks, soothing the sting before spanking you again, and again, and then once more.  


His palms feel hot against your skin as he sinks his fingers into your flesh and spreads you open. Your pussy is tingling, ass throbbing, the sensations so overwhelming that you feel the prickle of tears forming in the corners of your eyes. 

You pillow your face in your arms, trying to conceal a few quiet sniffles so Bucky won’t stop. He must notice, though, because he runs a hand softly down the back of your thigh, then up again to rub your back. You look over your shoulder at him and give him a small smile, knowing your eyes are rimmed red and wet, but wanting to reassure him that you love what he’s doing to you.

Bucky smiles back, but then helps you slide onto the floor so that you’re kneeling in front of him, your body between his thighs. He cups the back of your head, pulling you toward him so that your temple is pressed against his chest, his soothing sound of his heartbeat pulsating in your ear. He combs his fingers through your hair as he leans over you, his rough hand sliding down the back of your dress until he reaches your hot and throbbing ass. He massages one of your cheeks and you whimper at the pressure, turning your head to bury your face in his shirt and muffle the noise.

“How do you feel, sweetheart?” he asks “Are you sore?”

“Yes,” you reply, the sound still muffled by his shirt. “But… but I like it.”

He gently tightens his grip on your hair and tilts your head back so that he can look down at your face. “What was that?” he asks.

“I – I said yes, but I like it.”

Without warning he gives your ass another spank. You cry out, sobbing, and slump down until your head is resting against his thigh. He massages your ass cheeks again, gently kneading the swollen and tender flesh, while his other hand rests on your head, fingertips rubbing circles in your scalp.

You’re breathing heavy against his thigh, cheek rubbing against the soft material of his pants. When you open your eyes, you can see his hard dick tented against his fly, straining for release. You lift your head, your interest more than piqued, and place a kiss on his inner thigh, lips grazing his inseam. Another soft kiss, and one more, and then your hot mouth is pressed against his cock.

“Fuck,” Bucky moans. Then a quiet refrain of fuck fuck fuck slipping past his parted lips, urging you on. He palms the back of your head and brings you closer, jerking his hips up when he feels your teeth through the dampening fabric.

“Look at me, sweetie,” he says, cupping your cheeks in his hands. “Look at me. Do you want to suck me, sweetheart? Get those beautiful lips around my dick?”

“Yes,” you beg, pouting. “Yes, please, sir.”

He leans down and kisses you, pressing his soft, red lips against yours. You moan into his mouth as he nips at your lips, softly, but sharp enough to make your pussy flood with a fresh wave of arousal. His thumbs stroke the curve of your cheekbones and the rest of his fingertips wrap around the back of your head to keep your face titled up toward him. 

You start unzipping his pants while he teases your mouth, and he lifts his hips to help you ease them as well as his boxer briefs down his thighs. You have to break the kiss to pull them down more, sliding them to his ankles then tugging them off of his feet and throwing them to the side.

His dick is just as gorgeous as he is: an unbelievably thick girth, perfect length. It’s flushed red and curved slightly, wet tip resting against his stomach. You’re almost drooling at the thought of it being in your mouth.

“You’re eager for it, aren’t you?” he asks, smiling. When you nod your head he adds: “You’re a greedy girl. Go ahead. It’s yours.”

You place your hands high up on his thighs and lean forward, running your tongue up the long length of his shaft. Bucky lets his head fall back with a long moan, thrusting his hips up and making his cock rub along your face. You lean back and wait for him to relax, not continuing until he opens his eyes and looks down at you, impatient.

You wrap your hands around his dick and move forward, covering the tip with your mouth. He bites his lip and groans, but he doesn’t move his hips again, having learned his lesson from last time. You stroke his shaft in a corkscrew twist, your spit slicking the way as you jerk him off while laving the head of his cock with your tongue.  


Bucky angles forward, runs his palms down your back. He tilts his hips up as he does, pushing his dick further into your mouth. You take what he gives you, opening your jaw wider and moving your hands so they’re not in the way.

Bucky caresses your ass cheeks, kneads them in his hands, and pulls them apart. You can hear the sound of your soaking wet pussy as he spreads your lips and rubs his fingers down your core to your clit. You both moan as he sinks two fingers inside of you, slowly pumping them in rhythm with the tempo of your bobbing head.

“You’re so wet, sweetheart. And so fucking tight,” he says and you moan again, your cunt throbbing and tightening around his fingers. “Mmm, you like that, don’t you? You like me talking about how tight and hot and perfect your pussy is.”

You spread your legs wider, arch your back more, begging with your body for him to fingerfuck you harder, deeper. He pulls out instead, and you let out a muffled whimper around his dick. He moves his fingers up to your plug and pushes it in further, sending a spark up your spine.

Bucky grabs the base of the plug and pulls, sliding it out, then pushing it in again. He plays with it until you’re squirming, your knees moving out from underneath you as you sink lower and lower to the floor. He pulls the plug out, this time all the way, and your whole body jolts at the feeling. 

Your clit is pulsing and you feel emptier than ever. You almost take your mouth off of Bucky’s cock so you can beg him to fill you up with something, anything. But before you do, he places the tip of the plug against your ass and slowly slides it in, your hole expanding around the metal until he gets it back into place.  


You do take your mouth off of Bucky this time. You’re panting, pussy walls fluttering, eyes watering so you shut them close. You wrap your hand around his dick and jerk him off in slow, wet strokes, your head pillowed on his thigh as you try to catch your breath.

Bucky circles your clit with his fingertips, sending a shockwave through your body. You rotate your hips and push back on his fingers, seeking more friction. He rubs you harder, massaging your clit with firm, fast strokes and you feel heat begin to blossom in your core. 

That heat build and builds until you can feel it in your fingers, in your toes. Bucky slaps your ass and sends you over the edge. You start coming, back arching, muscles tightening. He slaps your ass again, then the other cheek, his fingers still rubbing you as your hips jerk back to meet them. Your whole body feels like it’s on fire as he works you through your orgasm, his arousal-slick fingertips keeping a constant, steady pressure on your clit.

When you come down you realize that you’re still holding Bucky’s dick in your hand, your grip tight but motionless. You look up at him from behind your eyelashes, your chest still heaving in exertion, and you give the head of his cock one long lick.

“Fuck,” he groans, petting your hair. “Get back up here. I wanna see what kind of mess you just made.”

He holds your hands to help you up. You stand up on shaking legs, grateful for the help now that your feet are unsteady on your stilettos. He gives the back of your hands a kiss before letting you go and sliding over to one side of the couch to give you more room. You kneel on the couch, knees and elbows pressed into the cushions, legs spread and back arched so that Bucky can get a good look at you.

“Damn. If you don’t have the most gorgeous pussy I’ve ever seen,” he says once you’re settled. “Touch yourself. Get those pretty little fingers wet.”

You reach underneath yourself and find your clit, quickly starting to rub it with your fingertips. You’re soaked – pussy, ass, thighs – everything wet and silky-slick with your arousal. You stifle a moan as you slide your middle finger inside of your cunt and you instinctively rock back and forth, fucking yourself on your finger while thrusting the digit inside of you.  


You can hear Bucky take the bottle of Scotch off the table and pour himself another glass. You can’t see him, but you can feel him watching you, all of his attention on you and the finger buried inside of you. He’s so close, maddeningly close. The couch cushion dips where he’s sitting and you swear you can feel the heat radiating from his body.

You add another finger, slipping it inside of your pussy next to the other one. You pump them in and out of you, not able to hit that spot that feels so sweet, but enjoying the feeling of being full nonetheless.

“That’s it, sweetheart,” he says. “Nice and deep. How does it feel?”

“F-feels good. Better if you were touching me.”

He hums. “You want my fingers inside of you?

“Yes,” you whimper. “Yes. Please.”

Bucky puts a hand on your ass cheek and you jump, whimpering at the unexpected touch. He runs his palm over your skin, lightly, teasing you with feather-soft flutters of his fingertips. He places the pad of his thumb close to your cunt, and you slide your own fingers out, thinking he’ll finger you instead, but to your dismay, he doesn’t.

“Do you do this often?” he asks. “Offer up your pussy to anyone who would have you?”

“No,” you say. “No, never. Just for you. Only you.”

You know you sound reverent, maybe even a little desperate, but you figure that there’s nothing wrong with stroking his ego a bit. And he seems to appreciate it because his palm tightens around your ass cheek and he runs his thumb down the crease beside your labia.

“Just for me, huh?” he replies. “I must be special, then, to get a private show like this. To get to touch you. Fuck you.”

He gives your ass a slap and you let out a shout, the sharp sting of his hand making your flesh feel hot and raw. He pulls you up, one hand on your shoulder, the other at the small of your back, forcing you to arch your chest out.

“Do I get to keep you, sweetheart?” he asks, mouth against the small of your back. “Do you have anywhere else to be tonight?”

“No. Nowhere,” you answer. “I’m yours. You can have me for as long as you want me.”

Bucky pulls at the strings of your apron and loosens the bow, then slides it from your waist, tosses it on the floor. He turns you around and makes you straddle his thighs. He grabs your hips and pulls you down, sliding the underside of his shaft against your wet folds and across your clit. He does it again and again, guides you down with his hands on your hips and while pushing up his own, rubbing his dick against your clit and soaking it in your arousal.  


You keep a steady rhythm going on your own, so he takes one hand off of your hip and palms the back of your head, bringing you forward. He rubs the tip of his nose against yours, kisses the corner of your pleasure-slack mouth as you moan.

Bucky keeps thrusting his hard dick against your oversensitive clit. He’s so slick, so hard, his perfect cock sliding against you. You feel strung out, pulled taut, and then suddenly, you snap.

“You’re gonna come like this, aren’t you?” he asks, lips moving against your cheek. “You’re gonna come all over my dick and I haven’t even gotten inside of you yet.”

You’re coming, eyes closed tight and fingernails digging into Bucky’s shoulders. He moves forward to kiss you, his mouth muffling your moans, and you’re so caught up in the sensation of it that you can’t even kiss him back. You grind down on him, short and jagged rolls of your hips, spreading your come along his dick as he bites your bottom lip.

Slowly, you start to calm down. You’re still moving your hips, but it’s slow and soft. Bucky tries kissing you again, soothing your bitten bottom lip with the tip of his tongue. You respond this time, languidly moving your mouth against his.

You slide your hands down Bucky’s hard chest and grab the hem of his shirt then tug it up, half-heartedly trying to undress him, failing at it until he takes over and pulls the shirt over his head himself. You press yourself against him, chest to chest, your mouth following a lazy path up the curve of his neck, lips against his warm skin.

You gasp as he grabs your ass cheeks in his hands and lifts you up, making you rise up on your knees. He takes one hand away and holds his dick, lining it up with your entrance. You put your hands on his shoulders to steady yourself before slowly sinking down, letting out a soft moan as you slide all the way down his cock.

“Fuck!” he exclaims says with a smile. “Fuck, sweetheart, you feel so fucking amazing.”

You moan in response and he shifts his hips up, sliding deeper into you than you thought possible, making you feel incredibly full. He grabs two handfuls of your ass and he raises you up, slowly dragging his thick, hard cock out of your tight pussy. He lifts his hips up while bringing you down, burying himself deep inside of you again.

“Bucky,” you sigh, then correct yourself. “M-Mr.Barnes. Sir. OH!”

He chuckles, but it sounds too breathless to be cocky. “Ride my dick,” he says, his voice coming out as a deep, low whisper. “Come on, sweetheart, ride it. You can do it. You can do it so good, I bet. Show me how much you want my cock.”

You grab the back of the sofa for leverage and raise up on your knees, sliding his dick out of you then sitting back down to bury him deep again. You do this over and over, moving faster each time you do until you’re riding him hard, making him grunt and moan and grip your ass like he never wants to let go.  


Bucky takes his hands off of your ass and pulls apart your dress, sending the buttons flying off around him. When he has the front open, he slides the dress off your arms and tosses it to the floor. He nips at the top of your breasts, marking you up with his teeth. He reaches behind your back and snaps your bra loose and tugs it off your arms, then sends it to the floor with the rest of your clothes.

He bends down and licks your nipple, making your throw your head back and arch your chest toward him. You keep riding him, loving the feeling of his hard dick deep in your pussy and his hot, talented tongue against your breasts.

Bucky grabs the base of your plug again, but this time he slides it all the way out and tosses it to the other end of the couch. He replaces it with a finger, pressing his fingertip against your rim, igniting the network of nerves there and setting your body aflame. He pushes it in, sliding his finger into your ass, the pleasure running through you making you collapse against his chest.  


He adds another finger since you’re already lubed up and stretched out from the plug. You shudder, nuzzling your face into the crook of his neck and he fills up both of your holes. You rock your hips back and forth, pushing back onto his finger, then forward to rub your clit against his pelvis. You continue to do that, not even riding his cock anymore as much as grinding against him.

Your movements get frantic as your feel that familiar heat begin to bloom again. Your whole body vibrates, your head is buzzing. You close your eyes to keep the room from spinning and then you crash hard.

“You’re not gonna come again, are you?” he teases, smirking at you, but sounding like he’s not too far behind. You nod your head, almost frantic while he adds: “You are, aren’t you? My girl. So fucking greedy. You can never get enough, can you?”

He swats at your ass when you don’t answer his question. “Can you, sweetheart?” he asks again.

“No, sir!” you reply, voice trembling. “Never. I can never get enough. Of your cock. Of you. You feel so good. So fucking good. So – oh! So good! Oh, God. I’m gonna –”

“You’re gonna what, sweetie?”

“I’m –”

“You gonna come?” he asks, knowing the answer already. “Come for me. Come all over my cock.”

Bucky wraps his arms around your body, one hand moving up to clasp the back of your neck, the other one winding around your waist to keep you flush against him. He rolls his hips up and keeps his dick buried inside of you, uses his arm to push you down, making your grind your clit against his pelvis.

“That’s it,” he growls. “There it is. Give it to me. Give it – oh, fuck yes. Good fucking girl.”

Your breath catches in your throat, thighs shaking, body quivering as you come again. He talks you though it, singing praises of good girl, so good, so hot and wet around my cock. He licks your throat, bites your ear, holds you close and you fuck yourself on his dick, working through your orgasm.

You don’t even have time to catch your breath before Bucky stands up, picking you up with him. He lifts you up so that you can wrap your legs around him, and he groans in frustration as his dick slides out of you in the process.

He carries you to the bed and lays you down width-wise across the mattress. He stands over you, grabs your thighs and pulls you back towards him. Your legs are spread wide, the arch of your feet balanced on the edge of the mattress, and he trails his hand from your hip, up your waist, and to your breast.

Bucky pinches your nipple and you shudder. He pulls it, rolls it between his fingertips, puts his other hand on your untouched breast and does the same to that one. You close your eyes and sink into the plush covers, happy just to let him touch and worship your body.

He runs his hands back down your body, fingertips softly tickling your stomach as they move lower. He slides his hand across your clit, your cunt, slicking up his fingers before slipping the tip inside of you. He crooks it up, putting pressure on your rim and sending a jolt of pleasure up your spine. You cry out, his name on your lips, and he smiles down at you as he slides that finger all the way inside.  


He groans and you gasp and when you open your eyes, he’s staring down at you, stroking his hard and leaking cock in his fist. He adds another finger, slipping it into your ass beside the other one. Your hips jerk off the bed as he thrusts them inside of you, fucking you with hard, shallow thrusts.

“Fuck,” he sighs. “I’m gonna have to come back one day. Bring some lube with me, slick my cock up and slide it into your tight ass.”

“Oh, please, sir,” you moan, the sound of his voice wafting over you, his words making you shiver all over, “there’s lube in my apron pocket.”

His eyes flash. “You naughty girl. You came up here planning to get fucked in the ass, didn’t you?”

You nod your head and squirm on top of the covers, spreading your legs even wider and creeping your fingers down to your tender cunt. He watches you, bottom lip trapped between his teeth, as your other hand finds your nipple. You’re too sensitive to touch yourself, but you still want to tease, so you grab on to his wrist, guiding his hand as he fingerfucks you.

“You are fucking insatiable,” Bucky says as he slaps the back of your thigh before turning around to get your apron. He holds it up and digs in the pocket to find the lube. He smiles when he has it in his hand and tosses the apron back on the floor before walking back to the bed.

He grabs you under your knee and lifts your leg, pressing it to your chest to open you up more. He drizzles the lube onto your asshole and you jump at the cold, but then he soothes you with his warm finger.

“What do you want, sweetheart?” he asks, spreading the lube inside of you and using his other hand to coat his dick with it.

“I want you,” you whimper. “I want you to fuck me.”

Bucky kneels on the bed with one knee, sliding his thigh under yours. He rubs the head of his dick up and down your pussy, slicking it up with a combination of lube and your cum. He runs it over your clit and you jump, sensitive almost to the point of being sore, before sliding it back down and rubbing it against your tight asshole.

“Where do you want me to fuck you?” he asks.

“I want you to fuck my ass, sir,” you manage to reply.

“Good girl.”

He presses the tip of his dick against your hole and pushes in. With a little force, the head pops in and you gasp, head titled back, throat bared, body arching off the mattress as he sinks the rest of his cock into you. Once he’s buried deep inside of you, he stops, letting you get used to the feeling of him stuffing you full.  


He leans down, draping his body over yours. His skin is hot and sweat-slick, sticking to your own. His fingers are unyielding against your hip, fingertips sinking into the flesh as he holds you immobile beneath him. He plants a kiss on your temple and then your cheek before moving over to nip at your earlobe.

“You’re a greedy, cock-hungry girl,” he whispers in your ear, voice sounding so sweet in contrast to his words. “You just want to get fucked, you don’t even care which hole it’s in. You just need a nice, big dick to fill you up.”

“Oh, God, yes,” you whimper. “Please fuck me. Please, sir.”

Bucky draws his hips back and slides a few inches out of you, then, just as slow, slides back into you again. Your hands clutch the covers beneath you as he starts to fuck you – short, shallow thrusts at first, then longer and deeper. He buries his cock all the way inside of you then pulls almost all the way out, pushes in, does it again and again and again, letting you feel his full length in your ass. It’s a perfect mixture of pleasure and pain.

Bucky’s looking down at the place where your bodies meet and you wish you could see what he’s seeing – his big dick stretching you out around him. Pussy and thighs slick with your arousal. He looks up at you and catches you staring at him. He bites his lip, the corner of his mouth turning up in a half smirk. He drapes one of your legs over his arm and leans down, pressing his forehead against yours.  


“What are you, sweetheart?” he asks.

“I’m greedy,” you whimper. “I’m a cock-hungry girl.”

“Yeah you are,” he growls. “Fuck!”

He reaches down and rubs your clit with his thumb. “What do you need?” he asks you.

“I need you!” you sob. “I need you to fill me up!”

“I’m gonna fill you up sweetheart. I’m gonna fill you up and make you drip with it,” he says, watching you, heavy-lidded, staring in to your eyes and you try to stare back. “You gotta come, though, before I do. One more time. I want to feel your ass tighten around my cock as you come.”

“I can’t,” you cry, but that only make him rub your clit harder, fuck into you deeper. “I can’t come again. Oh, God.”

You place your hands on his chest, half-heartedly pushing him away. He doesn’t budge. Instead, he takes your wrists in his hands and holds him above your head, leaning over you, grinding himself against your clit as he fucks your ass.

“You can, sweetheart,” he says, his voice rough like he’s on the edge himself. “You’re gonna. Look at you, you can’t even help yourself.”

Your hips buck up on their own accord, grinding against his pelvis. You feel hot tears in your eyes. It’s too much, too intense. All the sensations combining in to one and concentrating in your clit. You don’t know if you can come again, but Bucky is trying to force it out of you anyway.

“Oh fuck, Bucky!” you call out.

For once, he’s quiet, teeth clenched together, jaw tight. He moves one of his hands from your wrists and buries it in your hair, grasping the strands in his fist. His presses his face into the side of your throat, bites down. You can feel your ass tighten around his dick, pussy pulsating, clit throbbing. Your body stiffens and you come, tears falling down your cheeks and a sob catching in your throat.

Bucky comes too, fucking in to you with fast, short strokes. He pounds into your ass as he fills you with his come, moaning your name, his mouth moving against the sweat-slick skin of your throat. His hand has your wrists in a bruising grip and your scalp prickles from where he’s pulling your hair, but it’s good, so fucking good. Feeling him come is almost as better than having an orgasm of your own.

“Mmm,” he sighs when he finally comes down, “you’re amazing. Fucking amazing.”

He kisses you, slow and wet and lazy, his tongue swiping against your lips, licking at your own tongue. Both of his hands cup your cheeks, his large palms holding you in place and he gently ravishes your mouth with kisses.  


He pulls out and you both groan at the sensation. He gives you an apologetic look, then tucks you into his chest, wraps you into his arms. He’s muscle-hard and warm, his skin soft and clean smelling. You quickly feel yourself start to fall asleep, but before you do you try to slide out from his arm to get out of the bed.

“Where are you going?” he asks, voice velvet smooth and sleepy. “I thought I had you for the whole night.”

“You do,” you reply. “I’m just gonna go get cleaned up.”

“No, stay,” he says, holding on to you even tighter. “I’ll go get a towel in a minute. Just lay here with me a little longer.”

He kisses the top of your head and you tuck yourself back into his chest. “I love you, Mr. Barnes,” you whisper.

“I love you, too, Mrs. Barnes,” he replies. “Happy anniversary.”


End file.
